


please don’t say you miss me (cause then i'll know you're lying)

by averyseptember



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Post-Break Up, The Author Projects Onto Jungkook For 5k Words, “Jungkook-ah please don’t call me Rapmon-hyung in bed”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27563464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averyseptember/pseuds/averyseptember
Summary: “...Don’t sound so nervous. It's just me.”The words are soft. Tender.Jungkook plucks them like petals of a flower, and carries them in his pocket. Takes them home. Takes them to heart.He sighs, almost chuckles.“Yes hyung…”“It’s just you.”-Five times Jungkook says “it's you” + one time he wishes it wasn't true.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Namjoon | RM
Comments: 72
Kudos: 690





	please don’t say you miss me (cause then i'll know you're lying)

**Author's Note:**

> **cw // descriptions of anxiety, mental health**

A phone rings.

It's his.

Jungkook reaches over to his phone and picks it up, absentmindedly swiping across the screen to answer the call.

As he lifts it up to his ear, a whiff of steam from his pan rises up into his face. He swats it away, flustered for a second before answering.

“...Hello?”

_“Hi.”_

_Jungkook blushes at the sound of his voice. Then he shakes his head. Why is he blushing? It's just his voice._

_“Are you ready for tonight?”_

_The question is simple, really. Jungkook is most definitely ready for tonight, in fact having just made Jin approve fifteen different possible outfit and cologne combinations (and unfortunately for Jin’s blood pressure, had ended up going with option number sixteen)._

_“A-Ah, yes… I am uh…”_

_“...ready?”_

_Jungkook clears his throat._

_“Y-Yes… ready.”_

_He looks in the mirror and straightens his collar with his free hand, tucks a stray tuft of hair behind his ear, checks to see if his shirt has any wrinkl—_

_“Jungkook-ah.”_

_He freezes._

_“...Hyung?”_

_“I called the place and made sure ahead of time. They'll have a room for us set up in the back, and they'll let us in through the side so no one will see us.”_

_“Mhm.”_

_“And Jungkook…”_

_A pause._

_“...Don’t sound so nervous. It's just me.”_

_The words are soft. Tender._

_Jungkook plucks them like petals of a flower, and carries them in his pocket. Takes them home. Takes them to heart._

_He sighs, almost chuckles._

_“Yes hyung…”_

_“It’s just you.”_

“Did you eat yet?”

Jungkook isn’t sure how to answer. It’s just simple small talk, he knows, but it's so far off from the only real words exchanged between them over the last weeks, months. Those had been _anything_ but small.

After five seconds too many spent deliberating, Jungkook decides to play along. “Not yet hyung, I’m just at home and making dinner.”

“ _Ahhhh,_ ” Namjoon drawls, and Jungkook comes to the belated realization that he’s drunk. _Very_ drunk, if he recognizes the lull of his words correctly. “So you didn’t drink tonight?”

Jungkook is slightly annoyed now. “No, hyung. Did you?”

Namjoon quips with a teasing “maybe.” Jungkook hears the sound of a car honking from his side of the line and his annoyance dissolves into worry. _Was he alone and drunk in the street? Jesus._

“Hyung, where are you right now, where's Taehyung?” All the other six members had gone out for a night to Itaewon. He figures Taehyung would be the only sober one left. “Are you alone?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine…” Jungkook can almost see Namjoon waving his hand in the air, pushing away Jungkook’s concern. 

Ironic, really. Jungkook already feels worlds away.

“But… this means…” Namjoon goes on, but stops. Jungkook’s patience wears.

“This means..?” he prompts.

“Jungkook-ssi… if I'm lucky, you’re the only one that’s gonna remember this conversation, huh?”

Jungkook tenses at that, promptly considering hanging up before either of them say something they’ll regret.

“Hyun—”

“I miss you.”

The three short words _sting._ “Namjoo—”

“Don’t cut me off, Jungkook-ah. I miss you so much, _yea_?” His voice cracks slightly on the end there, and Jungkook feels the jagged pieces of it lodge into his side. Hears Namjoon bear the wound they share. The wounds they gave each other.

“I came by our hotteok stand again while biking and I accidentally bought two and my mom still drops off the same amount of the side dishes you like at the dorm like she makes the same accidents and Yoongi keeps scolding me for avoiding you outside of schedules but it's all so fucking _hard_ and I—”

He rambles on and on and on _and on_. Jungkook hears the words as if they’re underwater, all muddled and rippled, distorted and incomprehensible. 

He feels almost as pathetic as Namjoon sounds. 

It makes him wonder.

Jungkook wonders about all the things he'd done to make Kim Namjoon, world-renown musician, leader of his life, man on the moon, seem so pathetic to him.

Eventually Namjoon trails off, almost as if he forgets what he was talking about in the first place. They’re both silent, nothing between them but distance and phone static.

After a while Jungkook breaks the silence.

“...You don’t have to do that, hyung.”

Namjoon makes a sound resembling a laugh, but its low and grumbly, almost bubbling from the large amounts of soju that must be sloshing around in his poor, poor digestive system.

His tone is facetious, like Jungkook said something unexpectedly funny. “Do what, Kook?”

Jungkook cringes at the nickname. It rakes chills down his spine and stabs into the bottom of his stomach.

...

“You don’t have to miss me anymore, Joon.”

  
  


_It's awkward._

_It's nothing like he really pictured, but in the back of his mind he knew his teenage fantasies would never play out exactly like he wanted: Starting, unfortunately, with the lack of rose petals._

_He hoped that maybe their first time would parallel their first kiss. Jungkook had just gone for it one day, interrupting the middle of Namjoon’s sentence. As most spontaneous, daring things go, it was fast and left a tinge of regret behind, but Namjoon had wiped any insecurity away and taken Jungkook with him in stride._

_The stride, however, takes a little more time to find in this case._

_Namjoon is a little indecisive, and Jungkook is more than a little anxious, so there's plenty of bodily miscommunication on both ends: Jungkook does two double takes (so… a triple take?) trying to decide whether to put his leg outside or inside of Namjoon’s, always feeling like his body is craning over at an awkward angle when they're kissing. Namjoon keeps hesitating when he thinks something might hurt, and at one point Jungkook lets out a little groan, the sound scaring Namjoon into pulling out and insisting he did something wrong, to Jungkook’s dismay._

_It takes a bit and a couple awkward pep talks (“We can do this, Rapmon-hyung!” “Kook-ah, please don't call me that in bed”), but once they get going…_

_It's euphoric, honestly._

_Jungkook feels so close to him: to his love, to Namjoon. Past the initial pain and the awkward positioning, he gets to look deep into Namjoon’s eyes. They’re dilated and wider than he's ever seen, but past all the blackened pleasure, he sees it. He sees the warmth he feels in his chest. He sees the want churning deep within his soul. He sees care, he sees adoration, he sees elation. He sees everything he's ever wanted._

_Jungkook starts to cry._

_“—Kookie? What's wrong? Should I stop?” Namjoon stops moving, and Jungkook feels his hand warm against his cheek, warm against his tears._

_“N-No, it's okay. I'm fine.” He releases his grip on Namjoon’s arm to wipe at his tears, pressing his palm against his eye._

_“What is it? Does it hurt?”_

_“Hyung, no it's nothing… it's…”_

_He looks up again, and he thinks those eyes are the only thing he ever needs to see._

_“It's just… you.”_

  
  


As Jungkook turns the knob, the door surprisingly begins to move on its own, immediately pushing in towards him. He steps back to avoid it but realizes it's moving because someone (read: Namjoon) was leaning up against it and is now about to _fall._

On instinct, Jungkook rushes forward again to catch him. The taller man’s chin catches Jungkook’s shoulder and they collide with an _oomph_ escaping from both of them. Jungkook wobbles for a second as he gains his balance, but he ends up with his arms linked around Namjoon's waist and lower back, holding up the man as he leans against him.

“Namj—”

“ _It's for you.”_

Namjoon mumbles but then lifts his hand, which Jungkook has to stretch his neck to turn to his right and see. Namjoon’s phone is lit up, and a familiar caller ID blinks on the screen. Jungkook reaches around and over the back of Namjoon’s shoulder to grab it from him and hold it up to his ear. As the phone is taken from him, Namjoon lowers his hand and lets both his arms hang.

“Hello?”

“Jungkook? Oh thank _god._ ”

It's Taehyung. Jungkook can hear the familiar bustle of an Itaewon club in the back of the call.

“Everyone else is fine and back in the room we have reserved, but I couldn't find Namjoon-hyung. He’s with you?”

“Yea, he must’ve gotten a taxi home”

 _“Yef, I didv,”_ Namjoon mumbles into his shoulder. He’s almost dead weight, and Jungkook struggles to hold him up while also holding the phone to his ear.

“Do you need me to come home? I can be there right away.”

Taehyung’s voice is concerned for obvious reasons, but there's something on the edge of his question that asks something _deeper_ , something unspoken but understood.

_Can you be alone with him right now?_

“No hyung, it's okay. Stay and make sure everyone else is okay, I can handle… this.” Jungkook avoids saying _him_ , but even drunk Namjoon detects the hesitation.

As Jungkook ends the call and lowers his arm to pocket Namjoon’s phone, Namjoon lifts his head a little so he isn't speaking (or drooling) directly onto Jungkook’s shoulder. “I'm sorry that I’m a lot to handle.” His voice drops low.

Jungkook wraps and tightens both of his arms around Namjoon’s waist and pulls him up so his feet are firm against the ground again. “I just mean… physically. I don't mean about uh… you and, um… _us.”_ The word leaves his mouth and he half regrets it, but it was obvious to the both of them anyway.

“I think you do.” Namjoon says, and for some _godforsaken_ reason, puts his arms around Jungkook’s back and _nuzzles_ a little into Jungkook’s neck.

Jungkook stiffens, but after a second, relaxes into the hold Namjoon has on him. 

“...maybe I do.”

Then Namjoon's legs begin to shake, and they give in again before Jungkook can catch him in time. They both fall to the ground, and before he knows it Jungkook is lying on his back against the carpet and Namjoon is on top of him. Even in his drunken state, Namjoon reacts quickly and pushes himself up on his hands. 

For a moment they just blink at each other. Outside of the circumstances, this is a position they've been in plenty of times before.

A flash of memory. No, _memories._ So many it makes Jungkook’s stomach twist.

Namjoon pulls himself back and sits on his butt, looking suddenly sobered as Jungkook gets up. They’re both quiet for a second, the awkwardness of the fall not lost on either.

  
  


_Jungkook laughs a hearty laugh, initially high pitched giggles that slowly develop into big “ha”s from deep in his chest. Namjoon blushes, pink cheeks almost matching the shade of Jungkook’s hair as his bangs ruffle with his laughter. Hoseok frowns at the sight as he cuts the music._

_“Yah, you two need to watch where you're going, if that happens on stage it won’t be as funny.”_

_“Hobi-ah... leave them alone… they're in their... honeymoon phase.” Yoongi’s words come out in between breaths, still recovering from stopping in the middle of a choreography._

_“Honeymoon phase? Hasn't it been a year?”_

_“Eight months actually,” Jin chimes in._

_“You're counting?”_

_“No—well, yes.”_

_Jimin speaks up after handing his water to a panting Taehyung, “Taehyung, Jin-hyung, and I made a bet on when they're gonna stop being all gross and soft.”_

_Yoongi laughs at that but Hoseok just raises an eyebrow. “How long did you guys even bet?”_

_“Six months,” Jimin pouts in defeat._

_“A year,” Taehyung answers before he takes a sip._

_Hoseok turns to Jin. “You?”_

_Jin turns his head, directing Hoseok to get a good look at the two giggling boys sitting on the floor, legs still entangled from tripping over each other. When he turns back, Jin is smirking._

_“Never.”_

_“Kookie, I'm really sorry. I always lose track of where everyone else is going on that transition. I shouldn't have tried to go between you and Jimin. I uh… I'm too clumsy, it's really just my curse.” Namjoon’s voice is quiet, and he slowly curls into himself as Jungkook starts to stare._

_Jungkook’s laughs taper off, and he picks himself up off the wooden practice floor. He stands in front of Namjoon and holds out a hand. When he pulls him up, there's nothing sarcastic or angry in his smile._

_“It's okay, hyung. It's you, you'll figure it out. You always do.”_

  
  


“Just, uh… let it all out.”

“Thanks I'm tryi—”

Namjoon’s retch is sudden as he quickly turns his head to face down into the toilet bowl. Jungkook hears the splashing of some liquid and cringes a little, but a sense of relief also washes over him as he rubs one hand up and down his hyung’s back.

“And now you're succeeding.” His tone is a little coy and he sees Namjoon side-eye him for a sec, so he offers an amused smile. It looks like he's about to say something, but before he can the retches return. Jungkook continues his motions up and down, comforting him through the waves of nausea.

“You're okay, you're okay.” Jungkook whispers as Namjoon groans a little, stomach most likely in varying stages of agony from the trauma it just went through. 

Eventually he sits back on the bathroom floor, and Jungkook, on his knees to Namjoon’s side, waits for any sign that he's completely finished. Namjoon puts a forearm over his eyes to block the light of the small bathroom, and pants heavily, exhausted from the exertion. Jungkook squeezes his hand in an attempt at helping.

That's when it processes. He looks down.

Namjoon’s hand is in his lap. Jungkook’s _other_ hand has its fingers intertwined with Namjoon’s. He had been holding his hand the whole time. Squeezing whenever Namjoon needed it. Thumbing over the back of his hand when he was shaking, like how he knows they both find comfort in.

Before he can even process the thought, his hand has already pulled away, not sure if it's searing hot or ice cold. Either way, it feels _burned._

He looks up to see Namjoon’s eyes no longer covered by his forearm. They’re wide, staring in concern at Jungkook’s sudden movement. Before Namjoon can say anything, or _worse,_ reach for his hand again, Jungkook is up and walking over him out the bathroom door.

“Let me get you some water.”

As he stands in the kitchen, waiting for the water filter to fill the cup, he stares down at his hand. Feels the ghost of Namjoon’s touch lingering on his. 

It's interesting, really. They had hugged earlier, been in each other’s arms even, and it hadn't been a huge deal. He shouldn't have glitched out over simple hand-holding.

Still, the panic was there. It was something he shouldn't have, something he shouldn't want. He sighs a little, staring down at the creases in his palm.

It used to be the only thing he did.

  
  


_It hurts so bad some days._

_The need to be held. The absence of a warm body next to yours, letting you tap into their warmth as they tap into yours. The freezing feeling of isolation, trapped under the covers, immobile._

_It’s cold, yet it burns._

_There’s something else there. Embers, sparks. Frustration. Why do I need this? Why does this pit in my stomach feel so vast, so empty? Why can’t I just be happy on my own?_

_...Will I ever be good enough for myself?_

_The flames start in the stomach, somewhere from deep in the vast emptiness, barely a spark of light but suddenly everywhere at once, consuming his body and searing the inside of his skin. It’s writhing anger, desperate loneliness. Cries into the void._

_He just wants to be enough. For someone. For himself. Who the fuck knows._

_He’s not sure when it started, or particularly why. He hears from the countless doctors and therapists that the company provides him that there really is no set reason, no set cause. Maybe growing up in this industry, growing up in the eyes of thousands going on millions going on billions took a toll. Maybe living for the rush of the stage and the love of the fans wasn’t always a perfect way to live._

_Sometimes Jungkook felt like he could never escape the world, suffocated and crowded in. Sometimes he never felt anything but alone._

_He felt weak, wrong, out of place, to be someone who felt this way in this line of work. The doctors assured him that it was more common than he thought and that it was natural to need help, normal to ask for it._

_Jungkook wishes it felt that way._

_He had thought once they started dating, it would get better. The absence became a presence, and there was a warmth to tap into. It would solve everything, right? Getting to date the leader of his life, the icon of his life, the love of his life._

_In hindsight, that was a foolish hope._

_The brain simply doesn't work that way._

_The days kept coming. Days where he couldn't get out of bed, even with Namjoon waking up next to him. Days where he had to call in sick and skip rehearsal, which only led to more guilt and shame for the next. Days where despite all the love he felt, from the world, from his hyungs, he was never enough._

_The worst days were the ones where even Namjoon wasn't enough._

_He had taken it in step, with grace, at first. Never asking for too much, always giving everything he could. Taking Jungkook’s hand, he led him across the dance floor, one hand on his hip and two eyes staring softly into his. Through all the hesitation, all the missteps and stumbles, he almost always caught him._

_...almost. Dancing is a two-man job. Sometimes, Jungkook’s mind got the best of him._

_Sometimes, even the best couples fell._

_The fights were usually childish. Unnecessary. Small things, assumptions made in the wrong context and comments made in the wrong subtext. As time went on and the high of love wore down, the arguments grew more often, more numerous. Short-lived and small, but damaging nonetheless._

_“Jungkook-ah, please.”_

_“Please what?”_

_“Please… j-just be reasonable right now.”_

_Jungkook scoffs. “Oh, is that what you want? Reason? Funny, I thought that's what I was asking you.”_

_Namjoon sighs as the crease between his eyebrows deepens. “I already told you the reason.”_

_Jungkook purses his lip for a moment. Namjoon is sitting back in his chair, focusing on his computer screen nowhere in particular, just trying to avoid eye contact. Jungkook sits on the couch of his studio, observing his profile._

_After a pause, “And what was that?”_

_He barely remembers why he’s here. He remembers the conversation with Jimin, he remembers Jimin's concerned pout, and the prickly feeling crawling up his spine and clawing at his shoulder blades. The itch hadn’t gone away until his hand was on the handle of Namjoon’s door. He knows he’s being difficult, but he also knows this feeling won't go away._

_He’ll just have to hate himself for it later._

_“You weren't supposed to hear about that,” Namjoon sighs out, head turning down._

_Jungkook’s head stays up, contrastingly. It was odd how out of the rare times he had enough gall, it was always there for times like these._

_“So when was I supposed to hear about it? Cause god knows you wouldn’t have told me.”_

_At the sarcastic comment, it’s Namjoon’s turn to form a glare. He turns to meet Jungkook’s eyes. “I wouldn't have told you because you didn't need to hear it. I was just letting off steam to Yoongi, okay? I was just tired, saying stuff I didn’t mean.”_

_The flames curl._

_“Don’t lie to me, hyung. I know you mean it. I know you get angry, get annoyed at me. Yet you never tell me, why?”_

_Jungkook challenges because he wants to know. Hates being lied to, hates the thoughts that scratch at the edges of his brain when he finds out Namjoon is hiding things from him._

_The worst part is that they’re right._

_Namjoon turns in his chair. “I just... can’t tell you those things when you're having a hard time, Kook-ah. They’re my own problems, and I can deal with them on my own.”_

_He avoids saying it, but the idea of Jungkook being one of Namjoon’s “problems” churns in his stomach, and the heat brings it to a boil. He wishes he could bite it down, swallow his pride, but something drives him towards the wall._

_“I don't ‘need to hear’ those things? What am I, a child?”_

_Namjoon’s eyes are steel. Sparks and lightning and metal._

_“No,” his voice is stern. “Sometimes, it would only makes things worse so_ _—_ _”_

 _Jungkook stands up. “_ _—_ _So? So what? You’re ‘protecting me’ or some shit? You do realize I just—I just want to be able to take care of you too!”_

_“Kook-ah, how can you take care of me if you can't even handle yourself?”_

_As soon as the words leave Namjoon’s mouth, his glare vanishes. He stares at Jungkook, and two pairs of terrified eyes linger in each other’s fear, each other’s regret._

_Jungkook starts to walk to the door, but Namjoon catches his hand._

_“Jungkook.”_

_He doesn't turn around. Breathing heavy, letting the anxiety process. That static in his chest pulses in tandem with the blood rushing past his ears._

_“Jungkook. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”_

_Namjoon’s thumb is rubbing up and down over the back of his hand, squeezing ever so slightly, slowly cooling the flames that lick at the insides of his skin._

_Jungkook swallows,_

_And lets himself be picked back up again._

_Namjoon wraps his arms around his waist and presses his body up to his back, tucking his face into his neck._

_“I’m… I’m so sorry. I’m so scared of making things worse, but I shouldn't disregard your feelings and hide things. I know you're not a child, and I know you love and care for me. I’m sorry that I keep you from doing that. I-I’ll do better, Jungkook-ah.”_

_There’s no tears or cracks in his voice, but Jungkook knows it's because Namjoon doesn't want him to feel guilty. Wants him to take his words as they are, no lies or manipulation. He even loosens his grip, waiting for Jungkook to leave if he chooses so._

_Slowly, Jungkook turns around in Namjoon’s arms to return his hug. Namjoon’s body relaxes, and they stand there for a moment, Jungkook breathing in the soft scent of his hyung’s jacket._

_“I-I’m sorry too. I can’t demand things from you like that, I just hate hearing these things from someone other than you. I know you’re just trying to do what's best for me… I just get scared when you hide things but…”_

_The flames are gone now, but not without ashes. There’s something left in their wake._

_Cracks, deep in his chest, spreading between his ribs and through his heart._

_“It's you, hyung. I know you’ll always be there.”_

  
  


After a lot of water and a shower (Jungkook sat outside the door in case he heard a slip), Namjoon is tucked under his covers as Jungkook places a few aspirins on the bedside for the next morning. A few texts from Taehyung signaled that somehow the others were still going strong, and to not wait up for them.

Jungkook finishes counting the amount of pills he thinks Namjoon will need tomorrow morning, using a ratio involving both the amount of bottles he saw in Taehyung’s photos as well as the amount of minutes Namjoon spent throwing up. He stands up from the bedside table and turns to find Namjoon looking at him. His eyes are still lulled, traces of alcohol swimming around in between the mix of auburn and browns. He swallows.

“Do you feel okay?”

“Yea,” Namjoon answers, but doesn't turn away. Jungkook wonders if he should.

Eventually he does, pointing his head to draw Namjoon’s attention to his post-yak survival kit. “Well, there's some aspirin here and extra water bottles. There's also a bag that I've already set up if you need to go agai—”

“—Will you stay?”

Jungkook pauses, barely processing the question after being interrupted. He looks back up and through the alcoholic haze, sees nothing malicious in Namjoon’s eyes. A genuine question. A genuine request. 

Jungkook’s feet almost turn and walk right out on their own, but the weight in his chest keeps him in place. He thinks if he pulled hard enough, the cracks would grow and break and he’d be free, free to fly away and not feel this need. 

But then he thinks, if he really were to fly, where else would he want to go?

“Sorry, you don’t ha—”

“—Do you want me to?”

Namjoon looks stunned. “What?”

“Do you want me to, to stay?”

Namjoon swallows, and his eyes shift from surprised to tired.

“Yes.”

He hesitantly pulls back the covers, and an even more hesitant Jungkook stares at the space on the bed for a second, before climbing into a place he shouldn't be.

Jungkook’s breath catches when Namjoon wraps an arm around him, then he freezes when he slides another under his neck. He has half a mind to bolt out right then, but Namjoon’s arms are strong and bolstered with drunk boldness. Even through the toothpaste, Jungkook can still smell traces of soju and beer in his breath. He scoffs at that, and somehow, is able to relax into the arms around him.

  
  


_“Jungkook-ah?”_

_“Y-Yes hyung?”_

_“Are you… still crying?”_

_“...is it embarrassing that my answer is still yes?”_

_Jin laughs._

_“No, dumbass. I’m here.”_

_Jungkook curls a little more into himself, but finds comfort in his hyung’s mirth. Jin’s arms wrap around his shoulders and follow the curve of his elbows, hands grasping onto his wrists as they lie there. Jungkook smiles a little at the thought that even with all of Jungkook’s muscle and build-up, Jin’s broad shoulders still wrap him up whole whenever he needs them to._

_The night is quiet, a small drizzle of rain tapping the window of his hyungs’ bedroom. If Jungkook listens closely, he can hear Yoongi’s breathing as he lies in the bed across the room._

_“Something on your mind?”_

_Jungkook tries to scoff, but it comes out wet and muffled. “Uh, yes.”_

_“I meant something new.”_

_Jin holds the “you little brat” tone but doesn't comment further. Jungkook exhales a bit and pulls Jin’s arms tighter._

_“I… feel stupid.”_

_“Why?”_

_“...I don’t deserve to be crying right now.”_

_“What?” Jin makes a sound of disbelief and shifts a little under the covers. “What do you mean?”_

_“...I’m the one who wanted this. I’m the one who broke his heart. Why the hell am I here, crying?”_

_Jungkook feels the tightness in his chest, and his breaths become a little quicker as he speaks. He pushes down the knot in his stomach, but the effort it takes brings tears back to his eyes._

_Jin’s thumb draws circles around the jutting of Jungkook’s wrist bone, and the soothing feeling of it almost makes Jungkook’s breath catch in memory. The tears start to flow, but he tries (and fails) to keep Jin from realizing._

_“Shh, shh… neither of you wanted this…”_

_It’s been almost a month now. The days had gone by slow, the nights even slower. Ever since the day Jungkook started cutting the ropes, every limb grew heavier and heavier._

_He knew it would get worse before it got better. That’s what this was, he told himself._

_Better._

_“H-He’s been happier recently, right?” he asks in between tears and sharp inhales, “I know it was bad for both of us at first, b-but now. He seems less stressed, and he finished all his project deadlines early, I-I heard.”_

_Jin is silent for a moment. Jungkook sniffles._

_“He’s… not taking it as well as you think. He just handles these types of things differently, you know?”_

_Jin’s voice is hesitant, like he’s not sure if he should be telling Jungkook this. Jungkook considers the question for a moment, but rejects the idea._

_“No, he’s been better, I’m sure of it. Much better than me at least. It’s what he deserves... not a patient to babysit.”_

_Jin exhales a little out of his nose, puffing into Jungkook’s hair. “No one sees you that way, Jungkook. Especially not Joon.”_

_Jungkook doesn’t have a response. The tears have slowed now, but they still fall, tired and heavy down to the pillow. He turns his face into the soft material to wipe them away._

_“I… I can’t do this. I don’t deserve to.”_

_“Can’t do what, Kook?”_

_The knot pushes up into his chest and it hurts, but Jungkook exhales slowly, willing the pain back down._

_“...Miss him. This is better for both of us, for the team, for the managers, for the company. For everyone.”_

_After he says that, they lie there in silence. Jungkook focuses in on Jin’s breaths, letting them lull him to sleep._

_Right before sleep takes him, Jin whispers._

_“You know, you’re right. You can’t miss him.”_

_Jungkook almost doesn’t hear it, barely processes his eldest hyung’s words._

_“It’s him, Kook. Nothing to miss. He’ll always be there for you.”_

_It’s him._

_That’s the last thing in his head before he goes under._

  
  


It’s him.

It’s the first thing in his head when he wakes up, pressed up against someone he shouldn’t be. When he opens his eyes, they’re facing each other, and Namjoon’s nose is barely a centimeter from his. He feels their breath warmly mingling between them.

_Fuck._

His head whips back.

What is he doing? Why did he let this happen? This is stupid, crazy, _wrong._ Everything he left behind months ago. Everything he burned with his words in all those arguments months ago. He has to leave. _Now._

He has to leave and run, run far away where he can’t hurt Namjoon and Jungkook can’t get hurt. Run until his feet ache, run until the pain is numbed.

He thinks all this... but yet his body doesn’t move. 

In reality, he stays put, staring at the face of his sleeping hyung. 

It’s hard, he knows, to not overthink things like this. Not consider all the consequences of lying here, the ramifications of letting himself have this moment.

But... When did everything become so complicated?

He thinks back. The months had gotten better, the therapy sessions had gotten better, he had gotten better. Not perfect by any means, but better.

And that’s really it, right?

Namjoon was never going to be a solution. Despite being the amazing, astounding RM, despite him catching the stars and walking on the moon, he was never meant to be a cure. Never meant to be an end-all be-all.

He just made a good partner, letting Jungkook step on his feet every now and then, with Jungkook letting him do the same.

Jungkook couldn’t— _can’t_ _—_ stand his thoughts. Couldn’t let Namjoon close enough, afraid of letting him bleed along with him. 

But over the months, he learned it was okay to let others be there. Session by session, he learned to let others in, learned that those around him could and would help lead him through the dark, even if in the end he couldn’t leave it. The others had stayed, none of them wavering with their hand in his.

Despite what he learned, Jungkook told himself Namjoon was different. He had done too much damage, and now Namjoon needed to stay far, far away from any of part of Jungkook’s mind. Through the months of schedules and work, he watched the distance between them grow and told himself it was for the better.

What a fucking lie.

He almost doesn’t notice, but the tears fall from his eyes again as he lies there, looking in the dim blue light at his hyung, at his lost love.

It’s then, in the quiet of that room, he whispers to Namjoon the hidden truth, another thing said that he’ll be the only one to remember.

“I miss you.”

The words are barely even uttered, barely even _thought,_ but they’re breathed out into the world, forced out from the pressure in his chest. 

He sniffles and brings his hand up to wipe his tears away. Said and done. 

But suddenly, Namjoon reaches over and puts a hand on the back of Jungkook’s head, pulling him into his shoulder. Jungkook gasps and almost pulls away but then—

“—What do you mean you miss me? I’m right here.”

It turns out Namjoon was less unconscious than Jungkook originally thought. He almost panics, comes up with an excuse, an apology, but—

“Shh… It’s just me, Kook.”

Things aren’t perfect. They never were. They’re broken, and were from the beginning, were at the end. 

It had taken one drunken encounter for him to finally accept it, but maybe broken wasn’t wrong.

Broken thoughts and broken steps, but never a broken dance.

“...Yea.”

Jungkook relaxes into Namjoon’s hold and slowly fills into the mold they shape for each other. For the first time in a long while, he lets himself fit. His tears wipe away and soak into Namjoon’s shirt as Namjoon’s fingers slowly brush through his hair.

The cracks in his chest aren't fixed. They still hurt, still long, still burn.

But there’s something new there, something between the cracks and the crevices.

Or maybe... something that isn’t new. Something that never left.

“It’s you.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hi !  
> Sorry about that ! LOL
> 
> This fic was very cathartic for me to write, and jokes aside I really hope you enjoyed it. I think this is already pretty obvious, but a lot of this comes from my experience with anxiety and how it has affected relationships and having feelings for others for me (dw about me tho, I'm okay).
> 
> Some things can’t be cured and can’t go away, but they can get better, and it's okay to ask for help !!  
> Also, a lot of this fic came from inspiration from the song “Intertwined” by dodie (an absolutely astounding artist who I’ve followed for years and years, please go check out her music on spotify if you haven’t heard of her).
> 
> Please leave me kudos and comments if you enjoyed !! They make me so happy and I love responding to comments ^^  
> Thank you to Morgan, Toni, Will, Serena, Eunbee, and Iz for beta reading this for me !! Love you lots you guys inspire me and motivate me so much <3  
> Lastly, if you enjoyed, please consider subscribing to me on ao3 and following me on twitter for some of my other content (let's be moots) !! 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/averyseptember)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/averyseptember)  
> [fic tweet and moodboard](https://twitter.com/averyseptember/status/1327716641078034432?s=20)


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